Who Made You King?
by TwentyThree.On.August.The.12th
Summary: Emma is jealous of the new sub who seems to be catching Will's eye. Instead of shrinking & hiding, we see a different side of Emma emerge. Predictions of GP's arrival, but other than that no spoilers. Definite Wemma. My first Glee Story! K : Will change.
1. Jealousy and Drinks

**A/N: **I own nothing. If I did, Wemma would be married right now. Lol.

Alright. First let me say that this is my very first Glee fic. I've been yearning to write for Glee for a while but nothing had come to me until now. Second, if you're one of my Potter Readers, just know that I have two chapters that I am working on now and they'll be updated soon, promise. Third, I am a strong Wemma shipper, but the first few chapters of this story won't seem like it. I know they won't because this fic is not only Wemma centric, but Emma centric. I love the character of Emma. She's such a breathe of fresh air and Jayma Mays is just wonderful. I do promise though, that it will end with classic Wemma fluff. Getting there, tho, will be angsty. I'm sorry. Bare with me tho, and I promise you won't be disappointed.

**Now, for the fic itself: **

I've had a few speculations about GP's character, you know, the upcoming sub...I'm pretty sure sub, that catches Will's eye. Well, I've taken that and ran with it. I've created an OC basically; and needless to say, Emma isn't happy about how much attention is getting from Will. We'll get to see what Emma's like when her claws come out. ;) First chapter is just her blowing off steam. For this Fic I was greatly inspired by Sara Bareillis "Who Made you King of Anything."

I take **CONSTRUCTIVE** criticism well. Don't say it sucks, then leave it at that. If you think I can improve on something, tell me.

Thanks you, Lia for beta-ing for me. I love you.

Please **Enjoy**.

Also note, I can't update regularly, which sucks, but I have midterms and what not right now. Sorry.

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**Chapter 1:Jealousy and Drinks **

Will was wrong, he was. She wasn't jealous, was she? Jenna had only been teaching—no _subbing_, at WMHS for two weeks. She wasn't a permanent fixture; she and Will weren't going to end up together. Emma hadn't scowled when she walked into the cafeteria to find Ms. Apple sitting with Will—in her spot- because of _jealousy_. No, Emma wasn't jealous...just _irked_. Everything had a place, an order. Jenna Apple was just disturbing that order, invading it with her low-cut tops, shapely body, and hippie persona. Emma wasn't jealous, not one bit. She had Carl, after all. He wasn't Will, but he was good to her. _No_, she wasn't jealous.

Ah, who was she kidding? The way Jenna fawned over Will, laughing extra loud at his jokes made Emma sick. When Jenna flung her jet blonde locks over her shoulder and flinted her eyes, Emma had the sudden urge to smack her: an urge she'd never had before. Emma wasn't a violent person, not one bit, but Ms. Apple made her reconsider her opposition to touching, especially if it meant ripping out every last strand of bleached blonde hair. Will was Emma's...he was supposed to have eyes only for her, right? Or was she being absurd? ...She had Carl...Carl was wonderful. Carl was nice...Carl..._wasn't Will_.

Tired of going in mental circles and green with envy, Emma grabbed her purse off her desk; a pack of Clorox wipes from her desk drawer and headed out of her office.

It was six thirty p.m. Usually, Emma would've made her way home, cooked dinner, and relaxed for the night. Sometimes, Carl would call her, they'd talk, and she'd go to bed. She never called him: not because she didn't like him, but because she never really remembered to. Her mind hadn't been hers as of late. Two weeks in Jenna-land had set her way off course.

Tonight, she'd found herself outside of Roadies: the bar where the Acafellas had performed "Poison." She had only been there at that time, but, now, here she was, looking to take out her frustration somehow.

"_Jealous_..." She muttered to herself, mimicking Will's voice as she found a parking spot. She pulled into it and got out, gravel crunching underneath her red and black heels. She felt over-dressed in a place like this. She was wearing her red pencil skirt, a matching black blouse with a small red bow around the neck, and a red cardigan over that. The smell of smoke tickled her nostrils as she proceeded towards the entrance.

What was she doing? This was a bad idea and she knew it. She had hardly been able to keep her mysophobia at length last time she was here with a group. This time, she was by herself, for no reason except anger. She reached the door and wrinkled her nose in disgust thinking of _how_ many people had touched it before her. She pulled a pack of wipes from her purse and tugged one from its package. She wiped the door handle, looking behind her to see if anyone was waiting for entrance, to her avail no one was. She used the wipe to turn the handle, and then walked in. Immediately, she was assaulted by the smell of tobacco, grease, and, once again, smoke.

"Go home now, Em..." The voice inside her head repeated to her, but she forced it back. With one deep breath, she walked towards the bar.

What are you doing?

The voice spoke again, but Emma continued to ignore it. Taking another wipe from her bag, Emma wiped the barstool down, waited a moment for it to dry, and then sat down. She glanced down at the counter in disdain. She could see crumbs from smashed peanuts, water rings from cold bottles, and some spilled beer.

_Why_ was she here? It was because of _Will_, of course, these last few years all her problems seemed to stem from him. Not that she minded all the time, but sometimes...he made her so angry. Unknowingly, Emma found herself wiping at the counter surface. Only when the bartender approached her did she realize what exactly she was doing.

"Miss, we have people to do that..."

The voice broke into Emma's thoughts as she looked up. In front of her stood a short brunette with a tattoo of a butterfly sitting on her right breast. Her shirt was too tight, and her hair was cut in a short bob, red streaks intertwined with her black strands. Behind her sat a wall of liquor.

"Oh, I know. I just...um...sorry." Emma gave the woman a small smile and turned her head, looking for a garbage can.

"It's alright, I can take that..." The woman offered. Emma handed her the soiled wipe and pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer from her purse. "What can I get ya?" The woman questioned, a bit wearily. Surely she wasn't used to seeing someone of Emma's caliber in the bar.

Emma sighed and fiddled with the watchband around her right wrist. She really didn't know what to order at a bar, she didn't frequent bars, nor did she drink heavily.

"I'll take a white wine?" She called out quizzically, almost as if she was guessing.

"We don't have white wine, or red. We serve hard liquor and a few fruity drinks. How about something simpler, like a club soda? You seem like a simple person."

The corners of Emma's mouth immediately turned down. She frowned in disgust. Was she really that predictable and bland? Will's new blonde would've never been offered a club soda—no, she would've been offered the hard liquor that this bartender seemed so hell-bent on refusing Emma.

"I'll take a shot of tequila then..." The words were foreign to her tongue. She'd never tasted tequila in her life, but she knew, from the movies, that tequila was almost as hard of a drink as they came.

"Tequila?" The lady asked in confusion.

"Yes, please. However it comes. I just need something." Emma was flustered; she waited, wearily as the woman eyed her suspiciously.

"Have you ever had tequila? I think you should try something sim—"

"I'm paying, and I would appreciate it if you did not try to dictate to me what I am able to drink. Now, please: a shot of tequila. Keep them coming unless I say stop." Her words were firm and defensive. Emma was sick of people underestimating her. She might have been a bit pristine, she knew that, but she wasn't as delicate as most people believed. She wasn't in the business of taking any one's attitude anymore. Not Will's, not Sue's, and not this random bartender's. Emma refused to be pacified.

"Alrighty, tequila it is. I hope you know what you are doing..." The tattooed girl chimed as she reached under the counter, grabbed a shot glass and placed it in front of Emma, then turned around, grabbing a bottle of light brown liquor from a shelf behind her. The shelf was adjacent to a mirror, which reflected the face of Emma as her eyes glanced up at it. She was met with her own brown eyes and, for a moment, transfixed, she gazed at herself. Did she really want to do this? ..._Could_ she do this?

The girl poured the liquid in the glass and watched Emma, expectantly; waiting to see if she'd push the shot away, but she didn't. Emma ran a finger along the rim of the glass, starred at the glass for a few more moments, then picked it up and pressed it to her lips.

The alcohol burned as it went down. A bitter taste filled her throat and she felt like she was going to choke.

"An...ano—ther" she choked out, holding a hand to her throat and putting the glass down. "Please."

With a curt nod, the woman obliged. Soon Emma found the quicker she slammed the concoction, the smoother it went down.

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***No Emma will not be an alcoholic. Please, don't even think that. Recreational drinking. Lol.***


	2. 6 shots, 2 beers, & a few hours later

A/N: Wow,** i'm so overwhelmed by the outpour of interest in this story**. I actually didn't think anyone would read this. I'm glad that you're all enjoying it.** Your reviews mean so much**, all of you. As I mentioned before, however, my updates are going to be slow. I just hope that you all stick with me. Finals are coming up, then Christmas break. I can write all the Wemma I want over Christmas before classes resume. :) Promise.

I also am flirting with ideas for Wemma one shots, if anyone has any specific ideas that they would like to see come to life, just drop me a line. I'd love to hear some.

**Thank you All**.

(Yes, I did change my screen name recently. In case you're wondering.)

Riss.

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**Chapter 2: Six shots, two beers, and a few hours later**

Six shots, two beers (surprisingly), and a few hours later, Emma was feeling lighter than she had ever felt before. The bar maid, whose name was Olivia seemed highly impressed by the amount of alcohol the petite redhead had consumed. She didn't think Emma would be able to consume a glass of wine, let alone tequila; but she'd been proven wrong.

"I thought...it was floor tequila, one tequila, and three...two..." Emma hiccupped her words out as she reached for the empty shot glass, tapping a finger against it to signal more. "So, shouldn't I be here?" Emma slurred, pointing to the floor. "I've had siiiiiiiixxxxxxxx..."She held up three fingers to signal the number six.

Olivia laughed lightly as she reached under the bar counter and grabbed a bottle of water, setting it in front of Emma. "According to old Mexican proverb, you should be on the floor, yes. The old saying is: 'One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor...' I think you've had enough for the night, Emma."

"No, I had, have...not, yes? No..." Emma shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. She'd never in her life been drunk. She wasn't sure if she liked the feeling or not. Her body was loose and her thoughts, random. She hadn't thought of Will all night and her OCD had been irrelevant, making its way to the surface every now and then; especially when a random drunk guy would sit down next to her and offer to buy her a drink. "I'm—paying...more!"

"I know this, but I think you should drink some water for a bit. Might make your speech clear up." She wiped the top of the water bottle off and handed it to Emma. Over the last three hours, Olivia had become slightly accustomed to Emma's certain quirks and managed to keep the weirdo drunks from bothering her. She handed Emma the water bottle.

"Olivia...can ask I something of you...I mean, can I something ask you...no...okay..." Emma put her hands in the air signaling for a moment so she could gather her thoughts. "Can I ask you something, right?"

"Right."

The thoughts were back. Will had been at bay for so long, but as she tried to form coherent words before speaking, he was the first thing on the tip of her tongue. His stupid chin dimple, the dumb smile threw her, and the way he sang, all squished together in her head. "I think I need more sequila...tequila..." She pushed the water bottle away from her and pushed the shot glass towards Olivia.

"That's not a question you're going to like the answer to, Emma. I'm not giving you anything else." She pointed to a sign on the wall that read: 'We have the right to refuse service'.

Emma pouted as she read, or tried to read it. She wanted more to drink; she wanted to forget her worries and current thoughts.

"How about I ask you something?" Olivia asked as she pushed the bottle of water back towards Emma with an approving smile. "Why are you here? I'm not going to lie, when I saw you walk through the door I expected you to burst out into tears before asking for a shot of tequila. You seem so...please don't take this the wrong way, prissy."

Emma burst into laughter, a hand flying to her mouth as she realized how loud she was being. For a Friday night, the bar was pretty slow. Olivia was right: Emma was prissy, but just to hear someone say it, made her smile. Not because she liked being called a priss, but because someone finally said it, and with purse honesty.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just you're honestly... honesty... honestly...hon-es-tly...that's a weird word." Emma repeated the word back to herself a few more times before moving on. "anyways. I think I was saying something..." She paused for a moment trying to let her mouth catch up with her brain. "Oh yeah, right. Your honesly-ty...it's very refreshing. I am a priss. No one will say it though. Maybe I need that. Need someone to call me a priss so I stop being one." She rambled on for a few more minutes telling Olivia about some of her OCD and about various comments Sue would make regarding it.

"Okay. I get all that; my sister is somewhat anal retentive about things, too and Sue sounds...interesting, but that still doesn't explain to me why you're here." She tapped her hands down against the bar counter and leaned forward waiting for an answer. "You've looked at your phone a lot tonight. Waiting for someone to call?"

The small redhead sighed heavily a frown contorting her features for a small moment. "No...I...I don't know." Her words slurred again and she reached for her phone, turned it over in her hands then set it down in front of her. She hadn't been waiting for anyone to call her. Actually, she'd considered turning off her phone for a while, but hadn't yet; for she'd contemplated making a call, herself. She wanted to call Will, give him a piece of her mind. Jealous...she was, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction out of knowing so. "well, I-I-I...No." She stated firmly, feeling a bit dizzy as she closed her eyes. "It's a long st-to-ry..."

"Honey, it's going on ten o'clock. You're stone cold drunk, I'm not letting you drive home, and I don't leave here till two a.m. I've got the time." Olivia offered, pushing a strand of black hair from her eyes.

"Well—"She was cut off by a large burp. Instinctively, a hand flew to her mouth, her cheeks flushed red and she pressed her face against her palms. "Excuse me, I—sorry." She hiccupped as the words came out. "I think I'm a tad bit little drunk..."

"A tad?"

"I've never been drunk before."

"Well you're handling it surprisingly well, but you're going to pay for so much tequila tomorrow. Promise you that. Hope you like tomato juice, Hun; that's about the only thing that can stop a monster of a hangover. Now, stop trying to change the subject, what are you running from?"

Emma didn't think she'd been trying to change the subject; she didn't see her actions as running either, but—perhaps—hiding. Her mind, much like her speech, however, was at the moment very sketchy and out of order. "It's a apple, a substitute apple."She gave in, attempting to start at the beginning. She was going to tell Olivia about Jenna, the relationship she had with Will, and somewhere in there she planned to mention Carl. She couldn't focus, though.

"A What?" Olivia asked as a man sat down next to Emma at the bar. He smiled at Emma and turned towards her. Emma's body tensed as she gave him a small smile, enough to communicate her discomfort, and then turned away. She reached for her purse and pulled a Clorox wipe from it and began wiping at the surface of the counter. The sight of the man as he sat down next to her: tattoos, beard, and a musty odor to him, made Emma's sensitive stomach turn. Cleaning the counter as he spoke to her kept her calm as she waited for him to leave. She was never the type to be picked up at a bar, hells she'd only ever stepped into a bar three times in her life; tonight was the fourth.

"Hey there, Red, can I buy your pretty lil self a drink..." The man asked Emma, not noticing her scrubbing the counter.

"N—no-o." Emma stammered not looking at the man.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, interceding on her behalf. "Back off of her, Earl; she doesn't want to sleep with your or see your scars from Korea. Take your glass of gin and beat it." Olivia slammed a glass of gin and tonic down in front of the older gentleman and shooed him away.

"Tha—thank you." Emma smiled shyly feeling very uncomfortable. She held the wipe between her fingers for a moment longer then ran it across the counter once more.

"That's just, Earl. Don't mind him; he's as gentle as a teddy bear. Too bad he smells like an elephant's ass." Olivia smiled, reaching for the wipe as Emma ran it against the counter and then gave it to her. "you were telling me about an apple and a substitute teacher...now"

Emma frowned, feeling off balanced as the wipe slipped through her fingers, and her chin crashed down against her hands to prop her head up. "My best friend, he and I and then this new substitute. I just- then my boyfriend...it's a mess." Her elbows gave out from underneath her as her head collapsed against her arms which were now folded against the bar, sticking to the freshly moistened counter. The words spewed from her mouth: word vomit.

"Honey, you're drinking over a man? That's never a good sign, especially for someone like you." Olivia spoke softly to Emma as she reached under the bar and threw the Clorox wipe into a wastebasket. "What is it your best friend doesn't like your boyfriend, and then there's a new sub? Where does the sub come in? More importantly, where does the apple come in?" Olivia raised an eyebrow.

"The Apple is dating my best friend..." Emma muttered from underneath her arms. Her head began to ache; her speech, hazy.

"Am I missing something here, Sugar?" Olivia questioned, confused.

Emma lifted her head up to look at Olivia. Her red curls were frizzed out, her eye makeup smudged, and her eyes were even wider than they normally were. She almost looked close to tears and worn down. She opened her mouth to speak, her words coming out in slurs. "_Ihavetopee_..." Once again, she unknowingly changed the subject.

"Well..." Olivia shook her head, throwing Emma a half smile. "I don't think that's what I was missing, but okay." She sighed, giving in. Emma was all over the place, Olivia was sure of. She actually expected the small red head to start crying at any moment. "The bathroom is straight ahead, off to your right." She pointed behind Emma towards a hall.

"_Icantgothere._.."Emma whispered, not moving, her cheeks turning bright red, the color of her hair. She hated public restrooms as is, she wasn't going to use one in a bar where drunken accidents occurred often. Her OCD may have been at bay for the majority of the night, but there was always a possibility of it showing up at the most inopportune time, like a public bathroom.

The brunette shook her head, knowingly. "There's a private bathroom for employees back here." She took a step back from the bar and walked towards a door, off to the right of the counter, which had a sign on the door that read: Authorize Personal only. "I'm not supposed to let customers use it, but I understand. I don't know how much more clean it is..."

Emma gave her an appreciative smile and stood, wobbling on her feet as she made her way down the length of the counter, behind the bar and through the door, taking her purse with her, but accidentally leaving her phone on the table top.

Olivia watched as Emma swayed to and fro as she tried towalk. She'd only known the red head for a few hours, but didn't want to see anything happen to her. She meant it when she told Emma she wasn't letting her drive home; Olivia had seen too many people in her short life span drive off, drunk. Sighing to herself, she looked over to see Emma's phone still on the bar. She reached for it, picking it up and turning it over in her hand. The touch pad wasn't locked and it lit up as soon as her fingers grazed across the touch screen. She knew that she shouldn't be going through someone else's phone, but she had too. Accessing Emma's phone book, she began going through names when she came to Will's. Next to Will's name read the letters ICE: in case of emergency. Retrieving a pen and piece of paper, she took the number down, grabbed the business phone out from underneath the bar, and dialed the number, figuring Will for Emma's boyfriend.


	3. An apology and a Promise

**Authors Note/Promise:**

**Sorry everyone. I apologize with the utmost sincerity in regards to updates. I've had a very tumultuous last few months both school rise and personally. A recent death in my family has cause me to rethink a lot of things. I'm sorry. Just know that soon, I promise, I will update this. **

**Fawn, **

**My love. I'm sorry for lack of PM's too. Just know that I love ya and that I will be sending you a message very soon. **

**Everyone else, please forgive me. **

**If anyone has any questions, please fill free to message me. **

**!Riss!**


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